


Not crossing my mind

by fedorah



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - College, Angst, Jealousy, Love Triangle, M/M, Unrequited Love, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedorah/pseuds/fedorah
Summary: Sergio has a crush on his brother‘s best friend and has a plan to steal his heart. It doesn‘t go quite as planned...As always, he failed to take other people‘s feelings into account.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Helsinki | Mirko Dragic & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Palermo | Martín Berrote/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 24
Kudos: 83





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This idea came to me recently and I needed to get it out! It will just be a two-shot I think.
> 
> Andrés and Martín both go to university in (some place) and Sergio is 18 and just finishing school while living with his brother.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Something fell to the floor with a crash downstairs and Sergio was wide-awake. Before he could even swing his legs out of bed, he realized there were no intruders. He would recognize his brother‘s voice everywhere.

He fell back into his pillow and wanted to get back to his rather pleasant dream about traveling to Buenos Aires, when he suddenly sat up again. That voice he would also be able to pick out of a crowd with ease.

Martín.

Maybe he should go and investigate...

He tried to be as quiet as a mouse, but he probably needn‘t have bothered: the two of them were shouting at each other from the top of their lungs and probably wouldn‘t notice a mariachi band crossing through the kitchen.

As he stuck his head over the bannisters, he saw that they were standing in the living room. Through the doorway, he could see the back of Andrés' head, but Martín was too far away. He could finally make out words.

“And you think that gives you the right to dictate how our friendship works from now on?"

Martín was an emotional guy, and while Sergio had witnessed quite a lot of ups and downs in his moods, he had never heard him sound so furious before -

"Well, I do think I have a say in the matter, yes, since its existence depends on me just as much as it depends on you!"

\- whereas Andrés had the ability to be cutting to the core while remaining seemingly unbothered. He usually stressed his superiority by being verbal and twisting arguments. When he had tried to do it to Martín before, he had mostly been met with laughter or at least a raised eyebrow. Not so much now.

"Its existence? So now you are threatening to end it, do I get this right?“

  
  


Where Martín would lash out, Andrés would fortify his defenses with false disinterest and aloofness.

  
  


“Do not be dramatic, Berroté, it does not become you. If you think being a whiny little bitch will generate some sort of sexual tension between us, be warned that it is not the irrational emotionality that I find attractive in women, but their curves, their softness, their submissiveness. They are like fine wine. Right now, you're more of a... beer.”

  
  


A loud crash followed that statement. Now Martín came closer so that Sergio could catch a glimpse of him, his finger pointed at Andrés, barely an inch from his face.

  
  


“You don't fool me, Fonollosa. I am not one of your women. And I won't let you treat me like shit. I don't deserve this. Go fuck yourself and see if I care!”

  
  


With that he turned sharply and Sergio couldn't see him any longer, but the following loud crash announced clearly that he had left the building.

  
  


Sergio barely dared breathe, but remained glued to the bannisters.

  
  


Andrés stayed still for a few moments, his head hanging low. Then, he turned and walked into the kitchen, but his face betrayed no emotion.

  
  


As softly as possible, Sergio crept back into his room and closed the door behind himself. As he sank down on the bed, part of him was shocked: shocked at Andrés hurtful words and Martín's violent temper. But another part of him was elated, because he had achieved just what he had planned. Still, the vindication filled him with shame.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


It had all started two weeks ago when Andrés had invited a few friends over to celebrate that exams were over and had allowed his little brother to spend the evening with them. Mirko and Ágata had brought booze, Daniel and Mónica pizza, and Martín had brought cupcakes for dessert. They had been up well into the night joking and eating and playing games. Just after midnight, Daniel and Mónica had excused themselves and walked home, but the others had settled in for a movie.

  
  


It was an odd comedy that they had all seen before, but enjoyed nonetheless. After a while, Andrés and Ágata had gone into the kitchen, supposedly to look for more snacks, but apparently more to chat. Sergio had taken the chance to spread out on the couch and closed his eyes. He had been excited to be included in their circle, but it had grown late and he had let himself drift off.

  
  


After a while, he had felt a hand on his ankle, nudging him, but – thinking it was Andrés demanding his spot back – he had pretended to already be asleep, far too content to move.

  
  


“Don't worry, he's asleep.”

  
  


At Mirko's voice, he had perked up, but still remained motionless.

  
  


“Well, you never know with this one.”

  
  


Martín had sounded as if he was smiling and Sergio had felt his heartbeat speed up.

  
  


“So tell me, Berroté, how has life been treating you?”  
  
  


There had been shuffling sounds, as if Martín had moved closer to his friend.

  
  


“Same old, really. And you?”

  
  


“So... you haven't told him?”

  
  


A bitter chuckle.

  
“You know how this would end. Andrés isn't interested in me. I am glad he is my friend. Nothing more can ever come from this.”

  
  


Sergio had opened his eyes to slits and seen Mirko putting his arm around Martín's shoulders, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his head.

  
  


“I'm sorry, _cariño_. We've all been there.”

  
  


Martín had chuckled again and given him a kiss on the cheek.

  
  


“It would be so much easier if we would fall in love, Mirko. I know you'd take care of my poor shredded heart.”

  
  


Mirko had turned around slightly and given him a sad smile.

  
  


“Well, you know where to find me, _querido_. And I am sure you are not short on suitors. Sooner or later you will find someone worthy of your love.”

  
  


Martín's laugh had sounded a little lighter then and he had whispered so that Sergio had had to strain to catch it:

  
  


“I think Sergio has a crush on me.”

  
  


At their ensuing giggling, Sergio had had a hard time suppressing any reaction.

  
  


“Well, I know he is a few years younger, but he is cute, ain't he?”

  
  


“Are you kidding? He is barely eighteen, I've known him for years, he is Andrés' brother, I don't even know where to start. How ridiculous would that be? Coming around and seeing both of them? Andrés always right there?”

  
  


He had shaken himself in mock disgust and they had giggled again.

  
  


“Sergio is cute, but I am hopelessly in love already. As long as Andrés is there, how can I look at someone else?”

  
  


He had barely heard Mirko's response over the pounding in his ears.

  
  


“You know that's unhealthy, _querido_? You deserve so much more...”

  
  


“Yeah, I know... Thank you, baby.”

  
  


Another chaste kiss to the cheek and then Ágata and Andrés had returned from the kitchen with gummy bears and chips.

  
  


“Ooh, look at the love birds! Stop your little pride parade, we come bearing gifts!”

  
  


“Cuddling doesn't really count as a parade, Ágata...”

  
  


“Sure, honey, move over or I won't share the looty-booty.”

  
  


“Did I hear booty?”

  
  


“Shut it, Berroté!”

  
  


They had gone back to their usual banter and Sergio had remained still on the couch for a while, before he had feigned waking up and walked upstairs to his room to friendly _nighty-nights_ and air kisses from all of them.

  
  


He had had only goal in mind from then on: make Martín forget about his brother. It might take a while for him to get over him and even longer to develop feelings for Sergio, but he had patience.

  
  


All he had needed was a plan.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


And it had seemed so simple: tell Andrés the truth. He would tell Martín to get over it, maybe they would see a little less of each other – Sergio hadn't looked forward to that but deemed it necessary – and after a while, he would swoop in and impress him, make him realize that he was not that awkward teen anymore. He was smart – almost as smart as brilliant Martín, for sure – he could fight, he was an adult.

  
  


That would be the hard part maybe, but it would happen.

  
  


  
  


Apparently, there had been a few factors he had not been counting on:

  
  


  1. Martín was more hot-blooded than Sergio had anticipated or could understand.



  1. His brother was behaving weirdly.




  
  


When Sergio came down the stairs the next morning, his brother was sitting in the kitchen already. At first he was surprised that he was up already, since he liked sleeping in on week-ends, but then he noticed that he was wearing the same clothes as the night before.

  
  


Had he been up all night?

  
  


“G'morning, little brother. Sleep well?”

  
  


He was smiling, but his smile was a brittle little thing and he supported his head with his hand, nearly slumped over the counter.

  
  


“Morning, Andrés. What's wrong?”

  
  


Andrés turned away from him and busied himself with coffee. He didn't meet his eyes when he answered.

  
  


“Martín and I had a fight. I tried to... distance myself, like you said, but... one thing let to another and I think I messed up.”

  
  


Sergio took a seat at the counter and felt his heart sink. Andrés usually wasn't so open with him when it came to what was going on in his life. He seemed crestfallen.

  
  


What had he done?

  
  


“What did you say to him?”

  
  


Andrés turned back around and pushed a mug of coffee in his direction, which he solemnly accepted.

  
  


“I told him we would not see each other for a while. That he should get over his feelings for me and we would put our friendship on hold for the duration... He didn't take it well.”

  
  


“What did he do?”

  
  


“Well you know... when we fight, we fight ugly. He said some things, and I said some things, and then there was nothing left to be said.”

  
  


He smiled a self-deprecating smile and hid it in his own mug.

  
  


In that moment Sergio realized again what he continued to forget: how young his brother really was.

  
  


To him, he had always been grown-up and wise, especially since he had taken him in. He had it all figured out and organized both their lives. But he had not been lucky in his relationships and Martín had been his best friend for years now.

  
  


Sergio felt bile rising in his throat when it became clear to him what he had started by urging his brother to push away his friend who had been at his side through many crises.

  
  


“I'm so sorry, Andrés. And this all because of what I told you I -”

  
  


“No, no, _hermanito_ ,” Andrés hurried to cut in, “I knew what I was doing and I still think it's for the best. He will be angry for a while, but then it will be better, believe me.”

  
  


Sergio looked doubtful, but didn't dare say anything else.

  
  


They drank their coffee in silence, until Andrés excused himself to get some sleep.

  
  


After he had left, Sergio couldn't move from his spot for quite a long time.


	2. Plan B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio needs to adjust his plan and learns a few things on the way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, final chapter! There will be drama, there will be fluff, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I have the feeling I completely overused the word 'door' for some reason.
> 
> Have fun!

Sergio had decided that there would only be one way to set everything to rights: continue with his plan. If he could make Martín fall in love with him, then they could all spend time together, Andrés would get his friend back and everyone would be happy.

  
  


The only question that remained was how to go about it. A few days had passed since Andrés and Martin's fight and no-one had heard from him – not even Ágata or Mirko, his closest friend apart from Andrés.

  
  


Since there was no point in scheming without knowing what the situation entailed, Sergio made up his mind to just go over to his apartment and find out in what head-space he was and use the opportunity to comfort him and open his eyes to new possibilities.

  
  


Andrés had been holed up in the attic for days now, working on one of his art projects, so he only told him he would meet up with some friends and wasn't met with any suspicion.

  
  


Having cleared that up, he went through his wardrobe and picked out his newest pair of jeans and a dark red button-down. He put on his red and black striped chucks and took his phone and keys.

  
  


He was already with one foot out of the door, when he got to thinking that he shouldn't show up empty-handed. He came to console him and usually people would imbibe some alcoholic beverages when mourning dissolved relationships, or at least have an unhealthy amount of ice cream.

  
  


Rummaging through the kitchen produced one bottle of white wine that Ágata had brought over once, and a packet of madeleines. He shrugged and put them in his messenger bag.

  
  


The way to Martín's place wasn't long and was familiar to him – he had only been invited to come along with Andrés a couple of times, but his friend Anibal lived just a street further, so he almost knew the steps by heart.

It was just after midday when he stood in front of his house and suddenly the nerves set in.

  
  


What if he wasn't in?

What if he didn't want to see him?

What if he had someone over?

  
That possibility seemed worst of all and almost made him turn on his heel.

  
  


“Come on, Sergio, don't be an idiot. What's the worst that could happen?”

  
  


After a few deep breaths, he pressed the little button next to the name Berrote.

A few moments went by in agonizing silence only interrupted by his own far too loud breaths, then Martín's voice was heard through the tiny speaker.

  
  


“Who is it?”

  
  


“Uhm, hi, Martín. It's Sergio. Can I come up?”

  
  


A beat.

  
  


“Uhm. Sure. I'll buzz you in...”

  
  


As he had said, the buzz sounded and Sergio hurriedly pressed against the door, nearly stumbling with the force with which it fell open. He let it fall close behind him and hurried up the first few steps, before slowing down deliberately: no need to come off as desperate or – even worse – completely out of breath from two flights of stairs.

  
  


When he rounded the last corner, he could see that rather than wait for him to arrive, Martín had just left his door ajar. He was slightly disappointed by that, although he pondered that it also showed his trust in Sergio to allow him to come in without supervision.

  
  


“Hello!”

  
  


He went inside, closing the door and putting his bag on the floor.

  
  


When no response came, he went through the short hallway into the living room. On his right, there was the little kitchen and next to it a door leading to Martín's bedroom, which was slightly open.

Since he couldn't see Martín anywhere, he knocked gently on the door.

  
  


“Martín, are you in here?”

  
  


“Yeah, hold on...”

  
  


The door opened to reveal Martín, who was in the middle of pulling a t-shirt over his head. When his head popped through the hole, it displeyed disheveled hair and rings under his eyes, as if he had just crawled out of bed.

  
  


“Come on, kiddo,” he said as he closed the door behind him, “I have someone over and he is still sleeping. Let's move this to the couch. Do you want coffee?”

  
  


“Ehm, no, thanks.”

  
  


“I do. Sit down.”

  
  


Martín had a passion for coffee but not the budget to get himself the machine he would like, so he had a grinder and a French press that he used after careful experiments regarding the exact amount of beans and time for grinding down to the second. He went through the process – the grinder making a hell of a racket – and as he was pouring hot water over the ground beans, the bedroom door opened again, revealing a tanned, brunet, stranger, hastily clad and clutching a backpack.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


Martín smiled at him and walked over.

  
  


They gave each other a kiss and exchanged a few words, but Sergio couldn't understand their whispers over the pounding in his ears.

  
  


Martín gave his visitor a playful slap on his behind and he left with a chuckle, throwing out a friendly “Bye!” in Sergio's direction.

  
  


Sergio hated him with a passion. His thoughts were racing.

  
  


After a few moments, the cushions next to him dipped under Martín's weight, as he settled next to him with his mug in his hands.

  
  


“So, Sergio, what brings you here on this fine afternoon?”

  
  


He didn't even look at him, but almost put his nose inside the scalding liquid, as if he wanted to crawl into the mug.

  
  


“Well,” Sergio pushed his glasses up his nose, “I just wanted to see how you are, I guess. Are you alright?”

  
  


“Yeah sure, why wouldn't I be?”

  
  


“I heard you fighting the other day...”

  
  


He spared a quick glance at him, as if measuring his expression.

  
  


“Did Andrés send you?”

  
  


“No, no, no!” he answered quickly, “He doesn't know I'm here. It was my decision.”

  
  


“Hm.”

  
  


Every second of silence felt increasingly awkward.

  
  


“I've brought wine? And madeleines. I thought we could maybe... hang out?”

  
  


“What is this?” Martín huffed and put his mug down, “A pity party? What did Andrés tell you about our fight?”

  
  


“Not much, no! Just,” he pushed his glasses up again, “Just that you fought ugly and said some things and-”

  
“But did he tell you why we were fighting?”

  
  


“Well, I knew already, but I don't see why you have to fight, it is for the best of course, and you-”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


Sergio looked up and saw the rage in Martín's eyes he had heard a few nights ago in his voice.

  
  


“What do you mean you knew? What do you mean it's for the best?”

  
  


He could feel himself starting to sweat.

  
  


“Well, as I said to Andrés, it's for the best, you will get over it and everything can go back to normal, but there is no need to-”

  
  


Martín jumped up from the couch and ran his hand through his hair aggressively, before turning on him again.

  
  


“You mean to tell me that you set him up to this? To break us up because of my silly little crush?”

  
  


“I, I...”

  
  


“It was a crush! For fuck's sake, Sergio, are you the one that told him? Did you overhear something?”

  
  


He didn't give him the time to answer.

  
  


“I'm a grown man, Sergio, I know when my feelings are not returned. I didn't say anything to Andrés because I knew he wouldn't feel the same. I can get over it by myself without this ridiculous intervention! I didn't need my feelings dragged through the mud as if I am some teenage girl lusting after her idol! I don't wanna be treated like a silly child! And, most importantly,” he spat out, “I didn't need to lose my best friend in the middle of it all!”

  
  


He turned around, dragged his hands over his face, and groaned.

  
  


Sergio didn't know what to say so he opted to say nothing for now.

  
  


After a while, Martín turned around again.

  
“Well, I guess I have to thank you in a way. I knew Andrés was a bastard but... well, forget it.”

  
  


He sat back down again and slumped into the cushions.

  
  


Sergio just sat there and didn't know what to do. He was sweating, but he didn't know why. Did he feel guilty? Or was he just nervous about being so close? What should he do?

  
  


If in doubt, return to the plan, he thought.

  
  


“Look, Martín, I don't know what exactly happened, but maybe we should just move forward, hm? Let's open the bottle I brought and maybe we can watch a movie or play some video games and think about something else?”

  
  


Martín chuckled bitterly.

  
  


“No offense, kiddo, but hanging out with my crush's little brother is not really helping me move on, alright?”

  
  


Sergio frowned at that.

  
  


“I'm not just his little brother, you know? I thought we were friends, too. And I'm not a kid anymore. I'm going to university soon, as well, and I will be just like all of you.”

  
  


Now it was Martín's turn to frown.

  
  


He didn't say anything for a while and Sergio could feel himself turning red under his scrutinizing gaze.

  
  


Then, very quietly, he said:  
  
“Get out, Sergio.”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“I can see it now, so I'm telling you to leave me alone! Your silly little crush, your bloody teenage hormones have fucked up my friendship, so get out of my apartment before I lose my temper!”

  
  


“But-”

  
  


“Now!!”

  
  


He jumped up and vanished into his bedroom, slamming the door in the process.

  
  


Sergio could feel hot tears brimming in his eyes, but he stood up quickly. He was making his way to the door and grabbing his bag, when he heard a crash from the bedroom. He hurriedly left and pulled the door shut behind himself.

  
  


  
  


The whole walk home he ran through everything Martín had said word for word again. He blinked away the tears, but then he heard his voice again calling him a kid and his feelings a silly crush and he felt himself choking up again.

  
  


He tried to rationalize it, tell himself that Martín was just upset, that it would blow over, but it was no use. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, he wanted someone to run him through with a spear or shoot him in the head, right now, right this second.

  
  


He felt so humiliated, so belittled. And shaken up from Martín's screaming. He had never spoken to him like that, he had always been the laid-back friend, joking and singing and dancing. He had witnessed his temper, yes, but it had never been directed at him!

  
  


Suddenly, he found himself in front of the house he shared with his brother again. The sky had turned dark already, but the lights were on and he could hear voices from inside.

  
  


Steeling himself, he forced himself to clear his mind and wipe away all signs of his emotional state.

  
  


He could hear a woman laughing – Ágata had to be over.

  
  


Quietly, he unlocked the door and went inside.

  
  


“No, _querido_ , I'm telling you, that's what she said! You can go and ask her, if you want!”

  
  


“As if I would...”

  
  


Sergio briefly stuck his head into the kitchen and shot them a small “Hi!” and hurried along to go upstairs.

  
  


“Sergio?”

  
  


He turned around on the stairs to see his brother looking after him with a bowl in his hand.

  
  


“We're making pizza from scratch, do you want some?”

  
  


He braved a smile.

  
  


“I'm not hungry, thanks. Maybe I'll grab your left-overs later?”

  
  


Andrés grinned at him.

  
  


“Who knows, maybe we'll just eat it all ourselves!”

  
  


Ágata laughed and appeared behind him.

  
  


“Don't worry, _cariño_ , I'll defend your slice with my life!”

  
  


He nodded gratefully at her and turned back around when he felt his smile faltering.

  
  


“What's wrong with him?” he could hear Ágata whisper just before he closed his door behind him.

  
  


  
  


  
  


In his room, he threw himself on his bed and buried his face in the sheets. He could no longer stave off the sobs breaking out from deep inside himself.

  
  


He had messed up so bad.

  
  


Why did he have to be so stupid? He had always thought teenagers were stupid, always just thinking about love and sex and getting drunk. He was never like that!

  
  


And now it turns out he was exactly like that.

  
  


Why couldn't he be more like Martín? Just swallow all these feelings and not let them out.

  
  


Why couldn't it be like before?

  
  


Why did he have to fall in love in the first place?

  
  


When he thought about it, he felt his anger lessen. He remembered the exact moment he fell in love with Martín and it really wasn't anyone's fault.

  
  


It had been two years ago. Sergio had been living with Andrés for a few months now and settling in finally. Andrés had been busy almost all the time and he had been getting fed-up with it. He had wanted someone to talk to.

  
  


Then one day, this guy had come into his room.

  
  


“Hi there. You must be Sergio. I'm Martín. You like video games?”

  
  


And his smile had lit up his room.

  
  


They had spent hours on the couch in the living room playing Mario Kart and Call of Duty.

  
  


At one point, Martín had joked he could beat him with one hand tied behind his back or closed eyes and had then sat himself upside-down on the sofa, with his head hanging from the couch and his feet up in the air.

  
  


His head had turned red and he had laughed so much and his shirt had fallen down, revealing his tanned stomach and Sergio had found himself glued to the sight with the sudden urge to lick Martín's hip bones.

  
  


He had been so distracted that Martín had actually managed to beat him again, although he had been such a mess himself.

  
  


“I think I need something to drink,” he had said and quickly made his way to the kitchen. In there, Andrés had been doing the dishes. He hadn't acknowledged him and just stared blankly ahead, so Sergio had grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and stood there thinking “I must be bi, I must be bi, I want to kiss him, I must be bi, I want to kiss him, I think I love him...” over and over and over again.

  
  


From then on, he had cherished every minute that Martín had spared to spend with him and often snuck downstairs late, when Martín had visited, to join Andrés and him.

  
  


  
  


After a while, there was a knock on his door and Andrés voice promising him pizza, but he didn't answer.

  
  


He could still hear the two of them talking downstairs, but they were quieter now. When their friend left, he waited a few more minutes and then quietly went downstairs again.

  
  


It was quiet, but Andrés was still in the kitchen. He was doing the dishes.

  
  


When he saw him standing there, hands in the water and eyes far away, it hit Sergio that he had looked just like that when he had met Martín for the first time.

  
  


Back then, he had often found Andrés like this, doing the dishes or sweeping the floor or hanging up laundry, always with this look.

  
  


They hadn't had the best relationship then, they had barely known each other. Sergio had lived with his mother and Andrés had moved out years before. When she had died, he had taken him in.

  
  


It had taken him a few months to realize that his absent-minded behavior, which Sergio had been so resentful about for a while, had been due to the fact that Andrés himself had been grieving – just like him – while also taking care of all the chores and the paperwork to make sure that Sergio would be allowed to stay with him.

  
  


He had never complained or asked for his help.

  
  


Now that he thought about it, he had probably also been the reason that Martín had taken the time to spend time with him back then...

  
  


Seeing him again like that made him feel like a stone was lodged in his stomach. He felt sick.

  
  


He turned back around without his pizza and hid back in his room.

  
  


There was something he needed to do.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


It had been a few days since the pizza (Sergio tried to focus on a harmless identifier of the day in lieu of assigning some other title to the date which could only make him cringe) and nothing had really happened. School was over and university was still on break, so their days were getting repetitive. Andrés was still quiet, but made an effort to spend time with Sergio and help him with his applications, when he wasn't painting.

  
  


Today would be the day.

  
  


When Andrés announced he would spend some time in the attic, he waited for him to go upstairs, grabbed his keys and phone, and again made the familiar journey to Martín's apartment, crossing his fingers that he would be there and – hopefully – alone this time.

  
  


He slipped inside the building when someone else left and soon enough found himself standing in front of Martín's apartment door again.

  
  


He took a deep breath before he raised his hand to knock.

  
  


Martín opened almost immediately. His look of confusion soon transforming into one of resignation.

  
  


“Sergio. What brings you here?”

  
  


Sergio felt himself blush and he looked down at his feet.

  
  


“I wanted to apologize. You're right to be angry. But you shouldn't be angry at Andrés...”

  
  


He quickly looked up at Martín and found him listening attentively, but he averted his gaze again, not being able to stand his gaze.

  
  


“He did what he did because I told him it would be the best for you... and he was cruel so you would leave... but he has been so down since then, I think he misses you a lot, but he won't say anything, so I want to... try to make up for it I guess.”

  
  


He looked up again and this time Martín had a small smile on his lips.

  
  


“Would you consider maybe... coming over tonight? For dinner?”

  
  


Martín rubbed a hand over his five-o'clock-shadow and mulled it over for a bit.  
  
  


“What will your brother think about it?”

  
  


“I haven't told him yet, but he will be happy. I will tell him that I was wrong and he should forget about it.”

  
  


“And why should I come after what he said to me?”

  
  


“Well... he didn't mean it. He will apologize.”

  
  


“Oh, will he?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


Martín grinned at him; not one of his usual exuberant happy grins, but a grin nonetheless.

  
  


“Well, you seem to have it all planned out. I'll be there at seven. Shall I bring something?”

  
  


“No, I'll take care of it!”

  
  


“Okay.”

  
  


After that, Sergio hurried off immediately. He had much to prepare.

  
  


  
  


  
  


“You did what?!”

  
  


At least, Andrés didn't appear to be angry. More scared, actually.

  
  


“He'll be here in an hour. I am making risotto and setting the table, you will choose a bottle of wine and take a shower. And when he gets here you apologize and then we will all be friends again.”

  
  


“Hold on, can we take three steps back. I thought distance was the only way to find peace?”

  
  


Sergio sighed.

  
“I was wrong. I am sorry.”

  
  


He swallowed and put his hands on his big brother's shoulders.

  
  


“I really am sorry. It was stupid. Don't ever let me meddle with your relationships again.”

  
  


Andrés smiled at him – his first happy smile in ages – and pulled him into a warm embrace.

  
  


“Thank you, _hermanito_.”

  
  


“Now go change!”

  
“Yes, _señor_!”

  
  


  
  


The evening went fine and Sergio felt the guilt he had been carrying around with himself slowly crumbling away.

It had been awkward at first, but soon enough they were back to their old selfs, bantering and teasing each other.

  
  


Sergio was relieved. After dinner, he decided to give them some space and excused himself.

  
  


He went outside. In front of their house, there was a tiny little garden in which Andrés had tried to plant some flowers more or less successfully. But there was a bench and the moon was bright in the sky and it was still warm. He would just take a little break and sort through his own feelings.

  
  


It hadn't been long when suddenly the front door opened again and Martín appeared. He sat down next to him. After a while, he hesitantly started speaking.

  
  


“Hey, Sergio. I wanted to apologize. I was really mean the other day and I... I shouldn't have shouted at you like that, but mostly... I shouldn't have said what I did. You shouldn't scheme like I guess you did, but you also shouldn't be made to feel bad about your feelings. You might be a teenager and hormonal or whatever... but that doesn't make your feelings any less real.”

  
  


Sergio looked at him and his eyes were so earnest and his demeanor so calm, he was floored.

  
“I remember what it feels like, I did stupid shit too when I had a crush. Still do, apparently... So. I just wanted to say: don't feel bad about that. And I am sorry, but I don't return your feelings. I am in love with someone else. But I hope we will continue to be friends and I can beat your ass at Mario Kart again, okay?”

  
  


They both chuckled and Sergio nodded.

  
  


“Yeah. I want that, too. Thank you.”

  
  


“No problem. Oh, one more thing.”

  
  


Suddenly, there was a warm hand on his cheek, fingers tickling the hairs in his neck, and Martín was very close.

  
  


“This is just a little present, okay? To tide you over until you find the one.”

  
  


And then he kissed him.

  
  


His lips were soft and warm, his stubble was scratchy, but it was heavenly and Sergio didn't dare move.

  
  


All too soon it was over.

  
  


Sergio licked his lips and they smiled at each other.

  
  


He needed to clear his throat before he could whisper:  
  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


“You're welcome. I'll see you inside.”

  
  


And with that he left.

  
  


  
  


Sergio could not stop smiling and after a while he went to go inside again. He found Andrés and Martín already in the living room and Netflix open on their TV, as they were looking through recommendations.

Just as he wanted to enter the room, he heard his brother clear his throat.

  
  


“So... if you are dating my brother, you know there are going to be rules, right?”

  
  


Martín whipped his head around, surprised.

  
“What? I am not dating your brother, why do you think so?”

  
  


“Don't lie, I saw the kiss,” he didn't sound angry, but somehow sad, “Or what was that supposed to be?”

  
  


Martín looked down at his hands, almost self-conscious.

  
  


“It was just a little farewell-present. He has a crush and I wanted to say thank you and give him a good first kiss, you know? I know that is what I would have liked from my first crush.”

  
  


“Oh... alright,” Andrés replied and turned back to the screen.

  
  


Sergio was still contemplating whether he should join them or just sneak upstairs, when he heard his voice again.

  
  


“Would you... would you want one now, too?”

  
  


“Huh?”

  
  


“A kiss I mean. From your crush?”

  
  


Sergio peeked around the corner just in time to see Martín nod, bewildered, and Andrés closing the distance between them to meet him in a passionate, loving kiss. Martín closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure, and pulled him closer, and Sergio decided that, yes, he would leave them to it.

  
  


Although he felt a small prick in his heart, he still found himself smiling happily.

  
  


His plan had worked even better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it! What do you think?
> 
> I hope you liked it, I know I left it open before who the final pairing would be, but I hope you are not disappointed.
> 
> Since I enjoyed writing this so much and to help you over eventual disappointment, I would like to offer writing a Martín/Sergio story, if you give me a nice prompt ;)
> 
> What do you think? Was it believable? I think I worked through some teenage baggage here, I still carry around with me all these years later, was it maybe cathartic for you too?  
> How was the dialogue? I feel like Andrés was ooc, or was it ok?  
> I would be veeeeery happy about some feedback!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I love you all, good night!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? I know this constellation is somewhat unusual, so I would be happy about any feedback! Also, I find it difficult to write teenage angst and keeping in tune with Sergio's character?
> 
> I have the ending somewhat planned out, but I would be interested to hear how you want it to go :) Suggestions? I might take them into consideration...
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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